Tainted Heart
by sfaye-chan
Summary: Vengeance may doom his path, Lelouch thought, but it was also a temptation like no other. Japan's greatest mistake was crossing Lelouch—and it's a mistake he swore they would regret dearly. The discarded Black Prince embarks on the path of vengeance in the wake of his family's death and Britannia's defeat. Rated T for language and future chapters.
1. In The Wake Of Destruction

**I'm back, and with a new story!**

 **Okay, I get it, and I'm sorry I haven't updated my other stories, but I could not get off this. I do, however, promise to upload a new chapter for The Truth Hurts More sometime next week, after the semester exams.**

 **Hehe, please have patience ^.^**

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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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 _ **Prelude**_

 _(In The Wake Of Destruction)_

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"To defeat evil, I shall become an even greater evil."

\- Lelouch vi Britannia

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"I swear, Lelouch..." Suzaku made an oath that day; an oath that would shape the rest of his life. "I swear, so help me, I will, one day, obliterate Japan!"

Lelouch's amethyst eyes were filled with tears and heartache. Still, the pain in his chest lightened slightly at the words of his Japanese friend. Even if Suzaku was a Japanese, just like all the other men who had gunned Britannia down and killed Lelouch's father, the Britannian Emperor, Lelouch was smart enough not to blame Suzaku for his heritage—even if only because making enemies of the son of Japan's Emperor was definitely a stupid idea.

* * *

 _"Sister!" A young boy called out, voice tinged in horror and fear at the sight before him. His precious, beloved younger sister who was already in enough pain lay draped against the cupboard, blood staining her previously pure pink dress. Much to his terror, her once sparkling eyes were glassy and glazed over blankly, forever to remain open in such a lifeless way. Her smile, once full of life and hope, was tainted and had been morphed into a silent, pained yell, and Lelouch could almost hear the call, "Big Brother! Save me!" from her cold, dead lips._

 _She was dead._

 _Her skin was deathly pale, differing greatly from her usually fair complexion. Her chest remained still and unmoving, never to rise and fall again, and no breaths exited her lips or nose._

 _He shook. "N-Nunnally..." The name tumbled from his lips in shock and blankness, the reality of the situation not hitting him yet. "S-sister, no..."_

 _And he snapped._

 _He realized when he bowed his head and his silky raven hair fell around his face that he was crying. Torrents of tears were running down his face, his amethyst eyes dancing with pain. The boy, a young, innocent Prince of Britannia, roared in rage for all the world to hear, only one word leaving his mouth;_

 _ **"NUNNALLY!"**_

 _In an instant he could see what had happened. His painfully astute eyes caught sight of the terrifying dagger impaling his sister's chest, and he noted with horror the staggering amount of her own blood pooled around her._

 _Most of all, he noted the terrifyingly familiar and recognisable insignia blooming on the hilt of the offending dagger._

 _The Japanese._

 _They killed his sister._

 _Lelouch scowled._

 _Even when his father had cowardly sold him and his sister off to Japan after the Divine Empire had declared war against Britannia, he had still had his cheerful, positive little sister he loved more than the world._

 _His mother had been killed by one of Japan's Emperor's twelve Knights of Honor. The loving mother, Marianne, had cried out and desperately tried to protect her young children when Sir Todoh Kyoushiro the Miracle Worker and Lady Nagisa Chiba stormed into the Imperial Palace and demanded to see the Emperor, claiming that Charles saw them as only a minor threat if he was only willing to give away two relatively worthless children of his._

 _Marianne had been enraged at Lady Nagisa's words, her fury boiling when the Lady had so coldly called her children worthless. Marianne had fiercely demanded Charles stand up for the quivering Vi Britannia children, and much to everyone's surprise he indulged Marianne's request._

 _He cancelled the deal and proudly proclaimed that Britannia would not surrender. Afterwards, Nagisa exploded in a fit of anger and the two Knights of Honor left that day with a captured Lelouch and Nunnally, a captive Emperor of Britannia, and a dead Marianne Vi Britannia in their wake._

 _The two children had cried their eyes out at seeing their mother slain and clung to each other in their desperation. They quickly grew to appreciate and love each other more upon realizing that life was finite. Horrifyingly finite._

 _The Holy Empire of Britannia fell before its oppressors and the Divine Empire of Japan quickly declared Britannia as theirs and theirs alone, claiming the once proud empire with frightening ease._

 _The stubborn Emperor of Britannia was never to be seen again and his children all mourned his death—including Lelouch and Nunnally, the former of which swore to avenge Marianne, Charles, and Britannia in itself._

 _Lelouch had barely kept himself from drowning in his desire for blood and vengeance, the only thing keeping him sane his beloved sister._

 _And now..._

 _"They started the war," Lelouch growled as his life as he knew it crumbled around him and collapsed. "They killed them, my parents. They even killed Nunnally." His eyes narrowed. "They will pay." The "by my hands," was left unsaid._

 _Lelouch made to leave, his heart hardened and cold, guarded, but then suddenly stopped. He cast his sister, sprawled and looking agonized, one last glance and scowled a bitter scowl._

 _"I'm sorry, Nunnally..." The distraught brother murmured. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. But I promise you, my dear sister, I will avenge you. I'll make sure they regret killing you, for it is the greatest mistake they will ever make. Mark my words as Lelouch Vi Britannia, Japan will feel my wrath and tremble before me."_

 _"Japan will fall."_

 _"Japan will_ _ **die.**_ _"_

* * *

"Suzaku," Lelouch commented emotionlessly, "Tell me, why did Japan conquer Britannia?"

"L-Lelouch..." The Prince and Heir to the Empire of Japan stuttered, eyes wide at Lelouch's cold and calculating demeanor. "W-what? What do you mean?"

The doting brother to a deceased sister smiled coldly, and gazed at Suzaku with dead eyes. "Why did your Empire declare war against Britannia?" Suzaku shuddered at Lelouch's icy voice, but even more so, his heart cried for his friend—cried for the cruel, mirthless smile playing on Lelouch's lips.

"Why did Japan take my sister away from me?" Suzaku was speechless. He had no answer.

Lelouch's plain smile widened. "Suzaku, I thank you." The Japanese boy was even more startled. "I thank you for being Nunnally's friend."

Suzaku remained stiff and unsure for a moment before relaxing into a smile he directed at Lelouch, even while fear festered in his chest—fear of his friend, he realised in horror.

"Go, Suzaku," Lelouch urged even though his heart wrenched, "Fulfill your duty as Prince, and when the time comes..."

"We will come together and destroy Japan, for anything is possible when we are together." Japan's determined Prince finished with a resolute smile that warmed Lelouch's heart, Suzaku's fear fading after a tense moment.

"I am eternally grateful, Suzaku." Lelouch's voice was but a whisper, carried in the winds. The discarded, forgotten Prince exchanged one last glance with his friend before walking off, hoping Suzaku would not let him down.

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 **Okay, that was pretty short, but then again, this is just the prologue. I hope you enjoyed this, and please look out for the next update!**

 **Review, everyone, and tell me what you think!**

 ** _—_** ** _sfaye-chan_**


	2. I: How It All Began

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

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 **Chapter I**

 _(How It All Began)_

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"If strength is justice, then is powerlessness a crime?!"

\- Lelouch vi Britannia

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His heart hammered in his chest as he saw the ongoing events with concerned, frightened amethyst orbs. His Knight, the talented Jeremiah Gottwald, was a fool. A powerful fool who was far too loyal and dedicated.

The man, codenamed Orange in the name of his undying loyalty, was a brilliant soldier on the battlefield and the man Lelouch knew he could trust without a doubt.

Jeremiah's only fault was his flawless loyalty―something that, while had saved Lelouch on more than one account, had nearly gotten Lord Gottwald killed several times.

Still, Lelouch greatly appreciated his Knight for everything he had done.

But now, Jeremiah had gone too far. They were clearly outmatched and overpowered, cornered from all sides. And even with all that, Jeremiah was willing to rush in headlong to defend his Liege.

"Jeremiah!" Lelouch roared frantically. "Don't do it! You can't win!" Tears fought against his restraints, burning behind his eyelids. He could not lose Jeremiah; the turquoise haired man had been his father for years, taking care of him where no one else could. Losing Jeremiah would crush him―it would be the last blow he could take.

His throat dried at the scene that greeted him, torturing him with its excruciating slowness despite the fact that he was already full of grief.

"I have to at least try, Your Highness!" Jeremiah exclaimed in determination and loyalty. "After all, if we don't try, nothing will ever happen!"

"I _order_ you, Jeremiah!" His voice bellowed and boomed, twitching in his nervousness and fear. "As your Liege, I _order_ you to stand down!"

Jeremiah smiled sadly. "They must pay, Your Highness, for assaulting and wounding you. I will make them pay!" _For attempting to assassinate you._ "If I do not stop them now, who's to say they will not try to harm you again? What if I'm not there the next time it happens? I won't―refuse to―let that happen!"

And the man charged in. Lelouch watched in horror as Jeremiah attacked a faceless, visored soldier, ignoring everything around him. And a7s Jeremiah stabbed the visored soldier, he was shot from behind and Lelouch's breath hitched, torrents of tears already streaming down his face―Jeremiah was his best friend, his brother, his father, his Knight.

"JEREMIAH!"

* * *

Lelouch awoke tangled in his bedsheets, a sheen of sweat lining his skin. Breathing erratically, Lelouch shivered and tried to calm his beating heart when the door slammed open.

"Your Highness!" Jeremiah Gottwald stood at attention, further proving to Lelouch's frightened mind that all he had visioned was a dream. "Is everything all right?"

The Prince allowed a smile to dance on his lips. "Yes, My Knight. It was only a dream―a nightmare. Regardless, I thank you for your concern."

Jeremiah smiled at him loyally. "Of course, Your Highness! You deserve the world and more, after all, and I shall aid you through it all."

Lelouch smiled sincerely, touched by Jeremiah's words he knew were the truth. _Indeed, Jeremiah Gottwald. I will rise to power and help Britannia reclaim what is theirs; what is rightfully ours! I shall fight Japan and destroy it for all the pain it has caused me and my family, and you shall be my loyal knight and aide through everything._

"Jeremiah Gottwald," Lelouch began formally in a regal voice, instantly commanding the Knight's attention. "You stand here before me, a Royal Prince of the fallen Britannian Empire. Fallen it may be, but it will not remain beaten and crushed for long. Will you, Jeremiah Gottwald, pledge your life and loyalty to me and me alone? Do you swear to aid me through battles and through life as I fight to reclaim our glorious empire?"

Jeremiah looked stunned, pleasantly so. "It would be the greatest honor, Your Highness! I hereby pledge my loyalty and life to serving you as My Liege."

Lelouch smiled. "I'm glad, Jeremiah, for I know I can trust you."

For a moment the Knight stood there, stunned, and then Jeremiah's eyes twinkled with pride and he smiled, bowing dutifully. "I'll be making breakfast, Your Highness."

The teenaged Prince waved the loyal Knight away. "I'll be there soon," he promised, his crafty mind already whirring to life with thousands of ideas and plans, and a thousand and twenty more ideas and plans for each of those individual calculations.

 _Jeremiah_ , he thought fondly, _I really am grateful for your service._ He was honestly and sincerely glad the man had become his Knight and trustworthy ally.

Cornelia had been the one to demand he get a Knight to protect and help him due to the loss and horrors Britannia was going through. He had looked over the files his protective elder sister had brought him, and was shocked to find the profile of a man named Jeremiah Gottwald.

He still remembered the man as a Royal Guard of his mother's. Jeremiah had been a fine guard, even going so far as to entertain Nunnally whenever Lelouch was off running errands or playing chess with Schneizel. Lelouch knew how much his sister had adored the guard, and he himself admired Jeremiah for the man's flawless devotion and undying loyalty.

Jeremiah was a brilliant swordsman, marksman and an even better Knightmare pilot. The man was an ace and Lelouch had no doubt he could easily be a Knight of Honor had he been born a different race. This made the Prince relieved and glad that Jeremiah was on his side. Jeremiah was a good shot and practically had no limits to what he could perform on the battlefield. But besides and before that, Jeremiah was a man Lelouch could trust with his life.

Therefore, it wasn't much of a decision nor a surprise to Cornelia when Lelouch gave his decision and Knighted Jeremiah Gottwald in front of only a few peers; his older sister Cornelia li Britannia, her knight Gilbert G.P. Guilford, his younger sister Euphemia li Britannia, his brothers Clovis la Britannia and Schneizel el Britannia, and of course Schneizel's trusted aide, Kanon Madini.

Recently after the Knighting, the children of the then deceased Emperor of Britannia, Charles Zi Britannia, were given a choice; surrender and join Japan, face exile, execution, or live a life of captivity.

Despite the seemingly fair choices, though, the wiser of Charles's children knew without a doubt that even if they were to surrender and give themselves over, they would be treated worse than dirt, excluded and outcasted, like Lelouch was sure the other "Honorary Japanese" were.

But despite his and even Cornelia's warnings, far too many for his taste chose exile and left Britannia, some joined Japan willfully, there were a few who struggled and were taken captive, and much to his grief, there were those who were forcefully executed.

Schneizel el Britannia were one of the several who chose a diplomatic and peaceful option; join Japan. This was completely out of character for the merciless and tactical man who, besides their father, was the only other to ever claim Lelouch's king in chess. However, Lelouch and those who knew him well deduced that their brother had something bigger in mind.

Carine and Cassius were forced into captivity, in a prison on an island some ways away from Britannia. William and his sister chose exile and escaped without once looking back. Luther and Arianna fled to Spain, while First Prince and Princess Odysseus and Guinevere had shackles forced on them within the first week. Clovis cowered in the face of might and gave in quickly, swearing his loyalty to Japan. Katherine and Zac struggled and attempted to thwart Japan, angered by their father's death only to follow in his fate soon after.

Lelouch himself had no idea what to quite choose, furious at Japan's sins but clever enough to know he would be easily stopped. The decision was out of his hands as Cornelia bestowed upon him a new identity and proclaimed Lelouch Vi Britannia dead for his own safety. He went into hiding and took Jeremiah with him. Euphemia was given the same treatment, and she too hid with Lelouch, because even though Cornelia missed her dearest sister greatly she would rather see the girl less than see the girl dead.

Cornelia herself hid underground and in the midst of the thickest forests, building a resistance force―the mightiest and most renowned force, but still only a meager force that was considered nothing more than a pesky fly. Still, Cornelia fought on undeterred and blessed her unit to be the Purist Faction, with herself as the leader and general.

Lelouch sighed. _I wonder what advice you'd give me now, Mother._ He was proud of his sister and wanted to help her in whatever way he could; he just didn't know how.

He still remembered Suzaku and the boy's oath. He knew, however, that Suzaku had been young then and there was a high probability that the boy had only been overwhelmed with emotions and the promise had only been a 'thing of the moment'.

 _Suzaku,_ he thought, wondering if the Japanese had gone back on his word, _if you've betrayed me then I will have to make sure you do not interfere. However, you are my friend before you are the Prince of our oppressors, and I do not wish to see you in harm. Please, Suzaku, tell me I haven't been wrong about you._

The teenager sighed and shook his head, his amethyst eyes unseen and only the orbs of jagged sapphire visible to the eye. Lelouch Vi Britannia went by many names and faces, his least favorite being the one which he currently wore.

As Dmitri Hargreaves he was a ruthless brute who believed in no justice, nor the brilliance of mind. Dmitri was designed to believe and find light only in violence and strength. Still, Lelouch could not deny that he was strongest as Dmitri, showcasing his full strength only as this persona.

Yes, Lelouch had learned from his mistakes and vied to rid himself of his flaws. Ever since his sister died he finally realized that his own life could be stolen from him at any given moment and so he trained. He began to fight and train for many tedious hours every day, until he began to gain progress and it wasn't long before he gained power and muscle. Now, six years and then some after he began training, he could proudly say that he had gone beyond even his own thoughts on his limitations.

Lelouch smiled. Another reason he had so dutifully kept to his strenuous training schedule was because he believed with his newfound strength he could defeat Japan more easily. It would do no good if he were to be captured and beaten for information, or worse, surrender.

Japan had to pay, after all. For all their crimes; for hurting his mother, his father, his sister, and all the other citizens of Britannia they hurt. Especially his sister. Nunnally deserved nothing Japan could do to her, and yet they still gave her pain like no other. They couldn't only settle for paining and crippling her; no, they went far beyond and killed her, something the brother and moralist inside him just could not forgive.

 _I'm sorry, but Japan is the villain here. I refuse to let Nunnally's death be in vain._

A crafty smirk slithered onto his lips.

"Lelouch!" He heard his sister call. "We're waiting for you, Big Brother!" He tried desperately to ignore the stab of pain at the term Euphie called him; it was always Nunnally who manipulated and used the term, 'Big Brother', and the slash of nostalgia both ached and refreshed him at the same time.

"Your breakfast is ready, Your Highness!" Jeremiah's voice drifted up the stairs a second later, and Lelouch took on the voices of his loyal allies―family and friends alike, because he truly cared for them―with fondness and pride.

 _Japan, you started this war, so you will have to accept what is dealt to you._

"Lelouch!" Euphie hollered through the house again. "You've gotta see this! The Emperor's making a statement!"

 _Let the games begin._

* * *

Euphie had not been lying. The moment Lelouch stepped foot on the creaking floorboards, the irritating and infuriating voice of the man he hated most intruded his ears.

"Natives of Japan," the Emperor of Japan spoke regally, the way he smiled as though he had done no wrong angering Lelouch more than any physical blows ever could. "Britannians who loyally follow our glorious Empire of Japan, I am saddened by the Britannians' endless resistance! Can't you see, Japan will not fall! It's time to accept this as the truth and accept Japan as your home!"

"Never!" Lelouch hissed venomously at the screen, glaring at the blaring images with all his might, "I will never bow down to the men who killed my sister!"

"Lelouch..." Euphie murmured, her voice soft and quiet but comforting as she rested her palm on his arm. The tension in his body flooded out slowly and he relaxed in his younger sister's hands.

"Stop this needless violence!" Emperor Genbu Kururugi crowed, and suddenly Lelouch had to resist the urge to slam his fist into the wall, picturing his hands strangling the father of his childhood friend. "Japan has already won. To continue fighting is shameful! Is it not time to see that perhaps, Japan will do you better than your previous Emperor has?"

Euphemia could feel her brother stiffen against her hands and pulled him close, her slender arms wrapping around his body to show him there was someone who cared for him. "I'm here for you, Lelouch."

She saw him glance at her from the corner of his eye and felt herself grinning brightly at him when he smiled at her gratefully. _I meant what I said, Lelouch. I'm here for you and I've always been. I will always be here for you, and I will always be willing to help you. Even if it is sins you need me to commit, I refuse to let you bear the burden alone._

"The Emperor of Britannia resisted Japan and justice, therefore we have punished him. He performed the greatest sin imaginable; he shunned and sold out his own children! He sent in his forces while his children were in our hold, having no care that he was endangering his own kin! _That_ is something we, as an Empire, could never forgive!" Kururugi exclaimed dramatically, eyes majestic and shining. "His own children died and he did not give a single care, so it fell upon us to serve him justice! He resisted peace and so we were forced to resort to violence―it is his fault and no one else's that―"

Suddenly the screen blanked out, and Jeremiah and Euphemia both realized with startling clarity that Lelouch was breathing heavily with rage, his pupils dilated and his digits clenched around a sleek, black remote angrily as his fists shook. The remote clattered to the floor loudly and Lelouch gave out a furious cry, eyes stinging with tears he refused to shed.

"Damn you!" He shouted, his nails digging into his skin and drawing blood. "Damn you, Genbu Kururugi! You've crossed me for the last time! You disgraced my father's name!"

"Lelouch..." Euphie whispered, her heart reaching out for her brother.

"You have gotten away with too much! I refuse to let you stain a dead man's name and honor! It is you who killed my sister! You who willingly chose violence over peace, and you who started the war!" Euphie had never seen nor heard her brother so worked up, and similarly, Jeremiah had never seen his Liege's eyes so narrowed and filled with the lust for vengeance.

"I don't want to live in your world. I never wanted to have to see anyone killed just because they are weak―the theory that the strong devour the weak and that only the strong deserve to survive sickens me. If that was true, was I meant to leave my sister behind just because she is _weak_?! Never!" _I would never!_ Lelouch's fists shook wildly as tears streamed down his face, his body convulsing as he wore his feelings on his sleeve.

"In a world like that, how would my sister have survived?!" Neither Jeremiah nor Euphemia had an answer, their gazes averting as the full reality of Genbu Kururugi's kingdom's way of life sank in their chests.

 _She wouldn't have._ It was the unanimous thought on both their minds, and from the sorrowful look in Lelouch's eyes, Euphie could bet he was thinking it too.

After a beat of painful, stabbing silence, Lelouch spoke again, his quivering voice slowly gaining volume and sincerity. "I will make you pay for the lives you've taken and any other wrongs you've ever committed, even if it's the last thing I do!" Lelouch's promise bellowed out of his lungs with pure and utter fury, ringing resolutely with truth and the will to fulfill it.

Euphie did not smile but nor did she frown. Her face remained passive, her path set; _And I, brother, will help you and follow you on this painful path of blood._

Jeremiah had never felt more pride. It warmed his heart to see the Prince he had sworn to protect and serve so strong and determined―so full of dignity and so fierce just like his mother. "I won't let you damn your life alone, My Prince." He swore. "I will follow you wherever you go. My life is sworn to you and you alone, therefore it is yours to use and command."

Lelouch smiled simply, no sadistic desire nor satisfaction nor any other emotion carried along with it.

"I, too, will follow you wherever you shall go, my Big Brother. I shall aid and comfort you, and though I am not as smart as you nor as strong as Jeremiah, I will do whatever I can to help you in your cause. Japan must pay for taking sweet Nunnally away from us."

Lelouch smiled sadly at her. "I loved her too, Euphie."

"I know." Her voice was but a whisper, carried in the winds and her breath caressing his ears.

"I promise you both," The Eleventh Prince and Seventeenth in line to the Throne swore by his name, and both Euphemia and Jeremiah knew he would keep his word, "I will prioritize the safety of my allies for they are the most important factor. Because Britannia is made not from our luxuries and riches nor our victories and strengths, but the _people_. Without the loyal people of Britannia, our Empire is nothing. So in our fight for our Empire we must remember that, and realize that if we begin to sacrifice our people, none of it will be worth it in the end. I will do our people proud, and, if you let me, I shall lead us with only our best interests in mind."

Euphemia li Britannia could only smile, her heart flowing with pride and love for the man she had grown to admire and respect greatly. Her brother was a wonderful man. "I know you will, dearest brother. I know you would be a great leader for our people, and for us."

Jeremiah nodded in agreement, his smile that of a proud father's. "I have to agree with the Princess, Your Highness. I believe you would be a fine leader."

Lelouch nodded gravely and Euphemia kissed the Prince on his cheek. "Lead us, my brother. Lead us into the future we all desire."

And later on, no one would ever be able to imagine that this is how the greatest resistance to ever appear was founded. No one would ever imagine in their wildest dreams that this is how everything began. No one would be able to guess that _this_ is the moment that started the deaths, sacrifices and battles to come.

Later on, Lelouch would look back upon this moment and think, _This is how it all truly began. How the Phoenix was born and founded._

* * *

 **Please review and tell me what you think!**

 _—_ _sfaye-chan_


	3. II: When Old Acquaintances Meet Again

**Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass.**

* * *

 **Chapter II**

(When Old Acquaintances Meet Again)

* * *

"A victory won through dishonest means is no victory at all."

— Suzaku Kururugi

* * *

After breakfast, Lelouch browsed through the internet with the intent to uncover just where Suzaku was now. _Our beloved Prince of our Divine Empire has become an honorable, dignified man worth your envy. He—_

"Lelouch, I'm gonna go walk around, yea?" Euphie told him, heading out the door wearing a wig of curly blonde tresses and jade contacts. Garbed in a daring tight blue top, skinny jeans and an ivory vest, she looked nothing like the sweet, innocent Princess everyone knew.

"Sure, Euphie. Be careful, alright?" He could hear Euphie scoffing at his worried words and laughed silently, knowing Euphie had grown exceptionally strong as well.

* * *

Involuntarily, a sigh left his mouth. It was a sigh none of his subordinates had ever, and would ever, hear from him—it was a sigh he had once reserved for his best friend, who he was now disconnected from.

It was a tired sigh, and following the sigh, was an equally exasperated groan. "Lelouch..." _If only you were here..._ His gaze rested on the window. _I kinda need your help now._ He chuckled quietly; he certainly wasn't hiding from armed men anymore, but being overwhelmed by "villainous" mountains of paperwork could definitely compare.

"I wonder where you are now…" He whispered into the darkness, his eyes closing slowly as he ignored the dimly lit room around him. _How are you, Lelouch? How are you faring, with Nunnally no longer at your side to keep you leashed from harm?_

Grief flooded him instantly, and he found that the only thing filling his mind whenever he closed his eyes was the sweet smile Nunnally wore so often, full of rich warmth and hidden laughter.

"Nunnally."

Pain stabbed him as he remembered Lelouch's fury-filled eyes as the boy confronted him, his amethyst eyes piercing and full of unshed tears.

 _"What did your people do, Suzaku!?"_ Lelouch had been rightfully enraged, his voice thick and wobbly, yet steady and fierce. _"What did you do to her! One moment she's laughing with me, her eyes full of life, and the next… The next, Suzaku,"_ Lelouch's voice quietened, his tiny frame shaking tearfully as he sobbed out in a choked whisper, _"I see her on the floor, eyes no longer lively but blank and…and lifeless._

Suzaku smiled sadly, remembering the shock he had felt festering in his heart. _"W—What?"_ He had whispered, fear taking hold of him.

Lelouch would only smile mirthlessly, his smile no longer containing even the slightest hint of the joy a _ten-year-old boy_ should have, but instead being filled only with subtle, icy fury—a harsh, cutting anger that bit Suzaku's skin and gave him chills. _"There was so much blood, Suzaku. No one could survive such a significant loss of blood."_

Suzaku had stepped back, then, fear clouding him at the bloodlust in his friend's eyes and the merciless coldness tingeing the edges of Lelouch's brilliant violet orbs. _"W—what are you talking about, Lelouch?"_ Suzaku would always cringe at the remembrance of the pure and utter horror lacing his voice.

He would also always remember the way Lelouch had bared his fangs right after, his eyes distant and faraway as he recalled, _"I stepped into the room to call her to come play with us, and what do I find?"_ A chuckle, dark and malicious. _"Red. Dark, menacing bloody red tainting the otherwise flawless girl."_

 _He's crazy!_ Suzaku remembered thinking, edging away slightly from the _clearly_ unbalanced boy. _"Why are you telling me this, L—Lelouch?"_ He queried timidly, staggering over his friend's name.

Lelouch smiled again—although it was more of a smirk, Suzaku noted—and the words he said next Suzaku would always remember for the rest of his life.

"—Your Majesty?"

Suzaku's emerald eyes, almost unseen in the darkness, flitted upwards and gazed at the fiery irises of his most trustworthy subordinate; Kallen Kouzuki.

He managed a smile, somewhat thankful that the girl had interrupted him before he could truly mourn. "Yes?" He noticed the visible streaks on Kallen's face, and he froze when he realised that they had been tear tracks and that she had been crying.

 _Kallen, my dear, fierce Kallen, was crying._ He chose not to ask her about it, because the guarded look in her eyes clearly warned him not to. Instead he feigned a smile, and asked softly, "Yes, Kallen-chan?"

He couldn't help but grin slightly at the undeniable twin roses blooming on Kallen's cheeks instantly, and he felt something stir in his chest. _Kallen._

"Suzaku-kun," she murmured, and he felt glad she chose to mention his real name over the bland "Your Majesty" she had greeted him with earlier. "I need a mission."

His eyebrows quirked upwards. "A mission, Kallen-chan?"

She nodded, and he found his eyes staring at the subtle movement of her narrow jaw, and the shift in her cheekbones. He smiled at her. "What kind of mission would you like?"

Kallen seemed to consider it for a brief moment, her lithe, curvy figure leaning on the doorframe. "…Delivery."

If possible, his eyebrows arched higher. It was uncommon, if not extremely rare, that Kallen would specifically request for a _delivery_ mission. "Oh?" He smirked at her simply, his voice taking a humming lilt. "Is my girl wanting to play delivery mistress, now?"

Her eyes snapped to his in an instant, staring daggers at him. "Suzaku!" Kallen's cheeks flushed further, her arms insecurely wrapping around her chest.

"Alright, Kallen-chan, alright." He laughed again, making sure to save the image of Kallen looking so—so _embarrassed._ It hardly ever happened, so when it did, he went out of his way remembering it.

"Really?"

Suzaku shrugged again. "Sure." A small, fond smile touched his lips. "I'll have something on your desk by tomorrow."

Kallen smiled at him gratefully, and it took all Suzaku had not to bolt out of his chair and grab her to his chest, wearing his feelings on his sleeve as he cried for his lost friend. As soon as she turned away, the smile he adorned dropped and made way for the solemnity of his frown as he gazed after her, eyes full of regret.

 _Lelouch…_ The Eleventh Prince of Britannia's rich amethyst eyes flashed in his mind once more.

 _"How can I trust you, Suzaku, if I can't even trust my family?"_

* * *

He did not know why but, in the depths of his mind, lingering within his deep subconsciousness, was a guilt that would not disappear.

 _I'm doing this for her,_ he reasoned, unwillingly imagining the betrayed look in her eyes. _I'm doing this so she can live the peaceful life she never had._

She was his sister, and he was willing to do whatever it took to save her. To allow her to live without betraying anything or anyone.

It was a burden he would prefer to carry alone.

His lips pressed into a thin line. _I'm sorry... My little lotus._

* * *

As soon as the door slammed shut, marking his sister's departure, Lelouch smiled darkly. Silently, he apologized to her, but really, he had already involved her in too many things.

Cornelia would kill him if he dragged her down with him this time.

Biting his lips in worry, Lelouch gazed out the window at his beloved sister's beautiful, innocent form as she meandered through the streets, politely smiling at everyone she passed.

 _Euphemia..._ He wondered fondly, _you have always been such a kind fool. You smile even at your enemies._ And then the reminiscing glint in his eyes disappeared, his lips fitting into a solemn frown.

 _I'm sorry._ Once upon a time, Euphemia would have smiled and laughed even with those who had committed crimes. Once upon a time, Euphemia was _truly_ innocent in every aspect—she had loved all humans and believed she was born into the world to help everyone around her.

And then the Japanese overtook Britannia, and Lelouch had no one else to cry on—to grieve with.

Euphemia had been his anchor, and he, her's. Throughout the years Euphemia's open heart closed slowly, becoming guarded to everyone but himself, Cornelia and Jeremiah.

Now, Euphemia's sweet kindness was only a facade.

And he mourned the loss of a beautiful sister whose innocence and tolerance rivaled Nunnally's.

Tears pricked his eyes. Nunnally may have died due to the Japanese, but the only one to blame for Euphemia's death—the death of her innocence—was him.

His eyes steeled determinedly. "And that's why..." He murmured softly, silently weeping for the sister who had stayed by his side. "And that's why I cannot involve you any longer... No matter how willing you may be to help." _It's the least I can do._

The door behind him carefully creaked open. Peering into the room were the fierce amber eyes of Jeremiah Gottwald, who gazed silently and gravely at his liege.

"...Jeremiah, my Knight?" Lelouch spoke softly, as if fearing to disturb the solemn atmosphere.

"Yes, my Lord?" The Gottwald asked just as quietly, nearing Lelouch slowly.

Lelouch smiled sadly, regretfully, one more time and cast his last glance towards the window, where one could see the relatively tall figure and brown wig of Euphemia fading into the distance. One more apology was murmured in Lelouch's mind, before he set his gaze on his loyal Knight, nodding subtly.

Jeremiah Gottwald's smile mimicked his lord's in its quiet, unheard grief.

 _Preparations will soon be made._ Lelouch imagined the visage of his emerald-eyed childhood friend. _It's your move... Japan_.

* * *

 **— sfaye-chan.**


	4. III: When Preparations Are Put In Place

**AUTHOR's NOTE:** Okay, so I'll begin with apologising for how long this took, _again_.

Now, I want to explain that the action _will_ come soon. Maybe a few more chapters of development, but I do know where to begin and how this is going to go, for the most part. So yes, apologies for these boring preparation chapters, but don't worry, everything will speed up soon.

Next, I do want to say that the Pairings are currently _unknown._ I mean, I have an idea, but that might change depending on reviews, so you _do_ have a voice here. Things that might happen might be completely written off later on, and pairings and feelings might change as the story proceeds, so if you think your favourite pairing might not happen, don't worry, it might later on. For all I know, this _could_ become a Lelouch x Harem, although again, right now that's completely indefinite.

 **So, that said, let us proceed!**

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. _

* * *

**Chapter III**

 _(When Preparations Are Put In Place)_

* * *

"By failing to prepare you are preparing to fail."

— Benjamin Franklin

* * *

He grounded his teeth, white, hot, seething rage coursing through him uncontrollably. How dare he. How _dare_ he.

His fists shook with rage, wringing with total abandon as his mind remembered the words over and over—torturously and mercilessly repeating themselves. _The nerve..._ The fury danced in glistening amethyst, his fists gripping the metal railing, fingers denting the points he clutched on.

 _"How quaint." It was said with a sneer, the child's lips curling downwards in clear disgust. "To meet with a man of your status... A prince." A mocking chuckle, and eyes twinkling with mirth—amusement at another's expense._

 _"Lovely, isn't it?" He had stood stiffly, then, his shoulders shaking angrily but keeping his hands clenched and mind tense—never allowing himself to fall into anger's deadly trap._

 _They exchanged a dark look, and then a laugh rang out in the open space. "Wait... What am I saying?" And he was shot a mocking smile, wide and taunting. A smile that stretched from ear to ear in a knowing sneer. "You're no prince; just the remnants of what was once a proud Empire... Now fallen to the ground in ashes."_

He wondered how on Earth the child could rile him up so much... He had never felt so enraged, except perhaps when his mother and then sister had died.

 _"I wonder, Lelouch vi Britannia..." Said former-prince growled, his fists curling further inward as his nails gripped at what skin could be reached. "If you were given a chance... Would you strive to destroy Japan?"_

 _Yes. Yes. Definitely. Without a doubt._ That was what he would have said, once upon a time. But the knowing twinkle in the child's wide eyes, and the unnerving smirk he wore froze Lelouch more than any words ever could. _"...I'm not sure."_

 _And so he hesitated, his ever bright fury at Japan directed towards the young child for a moment, before he stopped himself with wide eyes, wondering in horror how he could be so cruel and petty as to hate such a young human so much... "Maybe."_

 _The words he had longed to utter for years died on his tongue, the emotion in his eyes stifling at the sight of the child widening his smile._

 _"Maybe? Where's all your bravado... Lelouch?" The smile, which had almost reached sincerity, faded and was replaced with a wicked smirk, accompanied by lidded eyes. "Your sister... What would she have said?"_

 _Lelouch recoiled instantly, his eyes widening in an unpleasant combination of shock and pure rage, but before he could act, the child laughed wildly, throwing his head back in his cackling._

 _"She would have been upset. Angered, even." The child continued coldly, eyes triumphant at the sight of Lelouch's glare._

 _He's not a child,_ Lelouch thought, eyes narrowing. _He's a monster. A monster who takes joy in another's suffering._ Because how _dare_ he manipulate Nunnally's name and taint her innocence, claiming she would have wished for vengeance when he _knew_ she... would not.

 _That's right. She would have forgiven Japan. She would have wanted peace, not a war. She would have never wanted vengeance._ His heart ached as he realized that, with his actions, he was directly crossing who Nunnally was and what she would have wanted.

The resolution in his eyes wavered, and a thought slipped into his mind;

 _Would she have hated me?_

Eyes wide with horror at the thought, he frantically shook the thought away, fear clawing at his heart. _No,_ he thought desperately, and he tried to convince himself that it was all _that child's_ fault. He was having doubts only because of that... that child, who's tongue manipulated reality and instilled doubts within everyone he crossed.

 _How could I have mistaken such a cruel monster for a child?_

But even his thoughts were not full of conviction, rather a bleak weakness that could only be caused by doubt.

Before he could stop himself, he remembered the eyes and curved smile of a child, a child who had admired and loved him. A child he would have gladly died for.

 _Nunnally._

* * *

She had loved this, once upon a time.

She would have enjoyed and loved simply strolling around the neighborhood, taking in the swaying trees and whistling birds while she greeted her neighbors.

It was a life she had longed for, once. But that was years ago, and she hardly remembered the last time she didn't cower in fear at the daylight.

As a six year old, she had seen daylight as a time of playing and joy, a time to bask in. Fast forward a year, and daylight was the few moments of peace she could partake in. Another year, and the daylight called at her, and she would stare out the window in longing, wishing she could play in the sun instead of learning from her many teachers. Daylight became a rarity; a pleasure.

At nine, she laughed with her friends on picnics, the sun glowing down upon them. Daylight had been uncommon, only permitted two hours before lessons began and her life was sealed in the palace.

That was seven years ago. Seven years ago, daylight became something to fear.

Daylight meant visibility for her enemies.

Daylight meant death.

Daylight was something she avoided... Because it made people recognize her, who she was.

She laughed bitterly.

She was a young girl, still only sixteen years old. And yet she glanced behind her shoulders fearfully in the night, pretending to be someone she was not in the day.

She was someone with more experience and wisdom than most women twice her age.

She knew. She knew the horrors life had to offer, and she knew death intimately.

—"Reagan!"

She was only sixteen, and yet she felt like she was much older. "Madame Shinobu," she smiled, her teeth clenching tightly behind her lips. "A pleasure to see you on such a fine day." Lies.

It was all lies. _Today is not a fine day._ It was a horrible day, dreary and reminding her of everything she had lost.

"To you as well," the Shinobu mistress smiled politely, nodding her head. "I can't imagine how this day must seem like to the poor Britannians."

She smiled again, letting a chuckle escape her lips but inside she seethed. Her smile was thin, not that Shinobu would notice—the blind woman. "Sad, must be." She merely replied, offering the Shinobu a pleasant wave as she walked away, making sure a skip was in her step.

When she had turned away, a scowl adorned her lips. _Shinobu Mako..._ The woman had brilliant eyesight—no, the Shinobu was not blind, not at all. Only her sense of justice was blind—she had been blinded by victory, by triumph, by superiority. By society.

It was days like these that she pitied people like Mako, but... _When we reclaim our honor and dignity once more, Shinobu Mako... Your blindness will be lifted._ Peaking from beneath her lips was a feral grin.

It would be painful, of course... But Mako would never be blind again.

She smiled sadly.

Life was hard. Even for a sixteen year old girl like her.

 _If only the world was at peace._

It had been her sister's dream, and now, it was her's as well.

Even if she had to destroy the world to achieve her dream... Her sister's death would not be in vain.

* * *

Regretful, watery blue eyes stared at a large, life-sized painting that was hung on the wall. It was practically the only painting she had in her room, and the contents made her heart ache whenever she so much as glanced at it.

 _Lelouch..._ She could still clearly remember his arrogant eyes and proud, gleeful laugh as he finally, _finally,_ managed to claim a victory over his older brother in chess.

 _His eyes were amethyst,_ she remembered longingly, a slight, mournful frown crossing her lips. They were the most beautiful and brilliant shade of amethyst, too, she recounted, her eyes tracing over the shape of his angular eyes, and every hue his irises contained.

His hair was raven, and he had the most adorable smile. She laughed, sadly, but it was a laugh nonetheless, and she wondered if he was happy, wherever he was.

He had the most prideful look on his face, the last time they had seen each other. His eyes had been full of sorrow, but his signature, confident smirk marred his face and his head had been held high. You could barely glimpse the sadness he held in his heart, and a part of her was glad he trusted her enough to show her.

The other part of her mourned for him, and cried the tears he would never cry.

 _Oh, Lelouch..._ She thought he may have been glad, to see his own Empire he once loathed trashing on the ground, defeated. It may have made him smile, to know his father had finally been taken down a peg or more—then again, it may have made him frown. You never knew, with him. _He could be vengeful, for all I know... Perhaps, if his life had not been stolen from him cruelly, he would have risen from the ashes, from the shadows, and fought to reclaim his home Empire's glory._

A bitter smile on her face, the young, mourning girl had no idea just how close she was. She had no idea that, at the moment, he was planning to do just that.

She gazed up at the picture, trying to imagine how Lelouch would have looked at her age, had he lived on.

A strangled cry caught in her throat, and she choked back a sob. _Lelouch..._ He had never deserved death. He had never deserved such a merciless end, much less the cruel life he was forced to live.

Tears blotting her vision, she desperately hung on to the image of the boy she had fallen for.

The painting was of a young Lelouch, during his days as a royal Prince of Britannian heritage. He was smiling, amethyst eyes lively and wide with a curious intelligence. He was lounging on the rich, lush grass outside his Aries Villa, and he lay there garbed in his royal clothing, his eyes locked with his beloved sister's.

It was a painting that perfectly captured Lelouch's youthful exuberance, and depicted the beauty of his spirit, soul, and entity. It was a painting that showed the boy he once was, before war transformed him.

It was a masterpiece she held onto dearly.

Tears speckling her eyes, she stared at the strokes of the brushes and the colors of the painting, and she thought;

 _We would both be seventeen this year, Lelouch-kun..._ The tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she mourned the death of her beloved—the death of his hopes, wishes, dreams and the death of him. _At eighteen, we were to be married... Did you hear that, Lelouch? We were scheduled to marry next year, the year we both turn of age._

Her shoulders shook, and the tears ran down every contour of her face as she cried and grieved.

She had loved him.

Once upon a time, she would have gladly lived a normal, lonely life if only he would be at her side. She had loved him. Completely and wholly. And now...

And now she missed him.

She missed his rich amethyst eyes and cocky smirk. She missed the way he laughed and chased his sisters and her around.

She missed the way he would smile at her—a certain smile he only blessed to several other people, his sisters.

She missed his elegant voice, and his haughty arrogance. She missed his princely behavior and she missed his superior, flawless ways.

Hell, she even missed his stubbornness, and the way he teased her and laughed at her—the way he would laugh _with_ her.

She longed for a time they could laugh together, again.

She missed her childhood, the peaceful times they spent together, but most of all, she missed _him_.

 _I miss you, Lelouch._

* * *

Life was hard. Especially for a certain male, whose life hung in balance—one wrong move, even the slightest mistake, and he would find his head on a noose. It was not worth it. He was hardly paid enough for this—damn it all he was hardly paid enough, period!

 _I should be paid billions by the week,_ he grumbled to himself. He should. He deserved millions for even being brave enough to take the job.

A phone rung, the noise reverberating within the confines of his bag.

With a tired groan, he picked up, ready to take his anger out on the unlucky fool who had decided now would be a good time to call him.

"Who the hell is this!?" He smiled, hoping the fool would hang up and leave him to himself.

But 'the fool' didn't. Instead, there was a cold, icy laugh that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle with horror and fear. _"My, my. Is my dear Cobra feeling unwell?"_

He shook. It was slow and subtle at first but soon his fists wrung and his shoulder convulsed. Eyes widening and body rigid with fear, he replied back, trying to fight off his horror. "…Boss?"

He fought off the wave of dizziness that invaded him as he waited for an answer—the answer which would no doubt change worlds. _"If the King does not lead, his subordinates will not follow. No... No, that is too definite, too clear a path. Instead, I would say... If the King does not lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow?"_ A breath he didn't know he had been holding escaped his lips in a rush, his face turning a deathly pale as fear lanced through his heart.

"He can't," he whispered without thinking, his voice coming out with a tone unusual of him. "Honorable soldiers only follow..." He hesitated, but the answer was obvious for both of them, so he answered honestly, "They follow good Kings. Kind, respectable and brave. Kings willing to sacrifice themselves for the lives of their subjects."

 _"And one day... I shall be such a King, who leads his people from within the war, and not the sidelines. I shall be a King to be feared and respected—a King who shall reclaim what was rightfully his, and his people's. With or without your help."_

He froze at the words spoken by his fearless boss, the same lines and sentences replaying in his mind endlessly.

 _"_ _...a King… who leads his people from within the war... not the sidelines…"_ There were too many people who took their subordinates for granted, commanding them mercilessly without risking their own lives. They were the worst leaders; people who expected the most out of their people yet were unwilling to sacrifice themselves.

 _"...a King to be feared... and respected…"_

 _"...what was rightfully..._ ** _his people's_** _..."_ A King who thinks of his people before himself, who strives to achieve the dreams of the citizens who trust him to lead them into greatness. As their King, they trusted him, and he knew the man he spoke with was worthy of that trust—the man he spoke with looked out for his people, and looked after everyone, not only himself and those close to him.

 _"...with or without your help..."_

His face, which had been wavering with uncertainty and doubt, hardened with determination. His eyes gained a twinkle which told anyone who cared to look that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing, and that he had a reason for it.

"Boss..." He began slowly, eyes slowly growing cold and guarded. Remembering his boss's honorable, selfless words, his lips subconsciously formed a sincere smile, no matter how small. "I hate to say it, but you wouldn't be able to succeed without the help of your most loyal comrade!"

There was silence for a brief moment, before a hearty chuckle was heard. _"I expected no less of you."_

He smirked arrogantly, parting his lips and readying his speech, pride blooming in his chest at the praise—a compliment hidden behind simple words.

 _"Of course, I need to ask... Are you sure you're ready?"_ His brows furrowed, and he couldn't help but wonder... Ready for _what,_ exactly? _"Are you ready for the responsibility of your role in this war, and the consequences your actions may bring down upon you?"_

The excitement and resolution which had been slowly building up in him stilled, replaced by a sudden faltering realization. _The consequences.. of my actions?_ His mind wandered to the visage of Japan's Emperor, and then Japan's Prince. He thought about his allies and friends alike, those who accepted him and those who trusted him.

By doing this... By siding with an enemy of Japan... He would be betraying the trust he earned. He would be betraying his home country.

Could he do that?

He bit his lip, the fear halting his previous determination and instilling within him a horrifying insight. _My friends... My fellow Japanese..._

And then, suddenly, the familiar sparkling eyes of one of his closest friends flashed in his mind's eye, and his eyes widened at the knowledge that came with the remembrance, his hands shaking.

Those eyes had once glistened with life and love and a jubilance he envied. And now... The last time he had seen those eyes, they were dull, filled with the horrifying reality of life—the desolation and despair the Japanese cast upon him, one of their own.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes narrowed. His fists stopped shaking, and he nodded once, as if to reassure himself. "Why would you ask that?" His voice seemed soft even to him, and he cringed at the emotional waver to his low timbre.

"Of course I'm ready." Those four were the words he spoke, eyes hard and focused on something no one else could see. "I've always been ready."

Before he could doubt himself and take back his decision, his friend's worn eyes flitted through his mind, and his resolve hardened.

 _"...I'm glad."_ His boss said, and he smiled slightly at the sincerity he could sense in those two, simple words. _"The fight would have been far less entertaining without you to mess everything up every few seconds."_

He frowned, ready to retort, when a thought stilled his heated ire. It was a jibe, he thought, a mocking comment directed at him... But it missed the taunting tone others would have used, and his boss held no ill intent. The remark was direct—but it was more playful than anything else.

He smiled sadly. "I'll make sure to amuse us as much as I can," he said, and he meant it. _I'll do my best to make you proud. I'll do everything I can to ensure everything goes smoothly. I won't fail you._

For a moment, he could almost see the smile his boss would be wearing—the same cocky yet honest smile he always wore.

 _"I'm sure you will."_ They were words that warmed his heart more than anything else ever could. It was an assurance, a voicing of his boss's trust in him, and it made pride course through his veins. _I will not, cannot, fail him,_ he thought, and this time, he knew it was because he did not want to fail his boss, rather than how it usually was, never wanting to fail the selfless cause they fought for.

His boss had earned his respect.

 _"I will email you the draft of our plan,"_ his boss continued, heedless of his thoughts, _"I expect a reply within a week."_

"Can do, sir." He hailed, smiling at the thought of how noble a man he had the pleasure to serve.

 _"I expect good things from you... Shinichiro Tamaki."_

* * *

 **Okay, so that was the end of this chapter. I'm so sorry it was quite short, especially after such a long break, but I promise you the next chapter will be better (I hope, anyways) in terms of length, production time and content.**

 **Please review and tell me what you thought of that, I would greatly appreciate it!**

 _— sfaye-chan_


	5. IV: Everything In Between

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

 _(Little Things Like Love, Friendships, and Everything in Between)_

* * *

"Be strong enough to stand alone, smart enough to know when you need help, and brave enough to ask for it."

— Ziad K. Abdelnour

* * *

"Sir..." Jeremiah started slowly, worry flooding him for a moment. "Is everything alright?"

He couldn't help but stare at his liege, who stood leaning out the window, a wistful look to his face. _Did something go wrong?_

"Is everything not proceeding as planned, my Lord?" It may have seemed disrespectful, to others, for him to refer to Lelouch as his Lord instead of the Emperor of Britannia, even if said Emperor was deceased. But Jeremiah truly considered Lelouch worthy of becoming a King—an Emperor—and he would serve Lelouch even if it cost him his life.

He wanted Lelouch to know that—to know that he, if no one else, would always stand by his side.

"Jeremiah..." Lelouch sighed tiredly, and Jeremiah stifled his curiosity. "What would you do, Jeremiah... If someone wanted to help you even if you asked them not to?"

Jeremiah hesitated—was this Lelouch's way of asking Jeremiah to leave and save himself? _I will not!_ He thought fiercely, before seeing the familiar sorrowful, bitter look in Lelouch's eyes and realizing Lelouch was talking about someone else, and relief filled him. He did not want to leave Lelouch to himself, but at the same time, if Lelouch asked it of him, he could not exactly disobey his Lord.

The look currently dancing the former Prince's eyes—it was the same look his Lord always wore when thinking of Japan, and the Japanese—the people who'd broken his trust, killed Nunnally, and yet remained to be his brightest hope.

 _Must be that Shinichiro guy,_ he deduced and his eyes grew weary. "My Lord... I believe that, if it is what they truly want, you should allow them follow you." He might have said something else, something to assure Lelouch and support Lelouch's unsaid wishes, but he knew that _he_ would have never wanted to be released from the 11th Prince's order, and he could respect Shinichiro's wishes.

"They are at risk." Lelouch simply said, never turning to face Jeremiah even as he conversed with the man. "Their lives are at risk. They have everything to lose and nothing to gain from following me."

Jeremiah smiled sadly, _Is that what you think, my Lord? Are you that insecure?_ The thought made him want to laugh, for some reason. Why would Lelouch ever think he was unworthy of people's devotion and loyalty?

"My Lord," he said instead, "A freed Britannia does good to everyone." A freed Britannia would give the Britannians back their freedom, and the Japanese their honor and humanity.

"He is Japanese." Lelouch said it like the simple fact changed everything. "He would be going against his home Empire; everything. He's throwing away his ideals, friends, and beliefs for this—for our cause. He's throwing away everything." His last words—the sentence that hit Jeremiah the most—was but a whisper, heartfelt and worried for the man whose life was being willingly put on risk.

Jeremiah had nothing to say, and for a few seconds he just mulled on the words Lelouch had spoken. Then, finally, he managed to smile and murmur, "Yes, he is Japanese. And that is exactly why he's doing this. Because he understands that Japan needs to be reformed. And he believes you can—and will—be the one to reform his people."

When Lelouch glanced at him, eyes wide with surprise, Jeremiah's smile widened and he added, "I believe you will be the one to grant the world the peace it wants, as well. We believe in you, Lelouch."

And the guilt which had danced in Lelouch's eyes faded. Tamaki had chosen his own path, and it was time Lelouch realized it was the path Tamaki truly believed in. Gratitude bloomed in his heart, and he took a moment to appreciate the people who cared about him, and most of all, _believed in him._

* * *

Reagan Hart had no parents. For all intents and purposes, she was an orphan. But she had a sister and brother who cared about her like she was their own. She had them to take care of her, and she never needed anything more.

Her brother, Sean Hart, was caring, considerate and looked out for her, and she appreciated his efforts greatly, because he, too, was orphaned at a young age—they had lost their parents while they were in their preteens. Younger, even.

Romaine Hart was a beautiful girl, who was compassionate yet strict at the same time. While she and Sean were more idealists and pacifists than anything else, Romaine was a warrior. The elder sister would have willingly ruled over a country with an iron fist, if given the chance.

But Reagan loved her sister nonetheless. Her sister truly cared for her in a way no other really had, until they had no choice to. Sean, of course, could be an exception—but it was really so much more complicated than that.

Because they were not even Harts. They were Britannians, and carried with them the proud heritage of royalty.

Reagan was not Reagan at all. And now, as she stood on the bridge, eyes peering down below her at the countless citizens minding their own business, she wondered if hiding was really the best option at all.

She couldn't stand the way her people were spat upon, their hard work and love sneered on. She hated how the Japanese wronged her people. She hated the Japanese and their sinful ways and endless arrogance—the way they moved and acted as if they were innocent, as if they were sinless.

But despite the way her blood boiled with every cruel act the Japanese committed, she restrained herself, remembering her sister's words and worried eyes.

And yet her sister's warning and undeniable reasoning did not stop her from wanting, from _wishing,_ and not a day would go by without her weeping for her people and praying for their Empire.

What her sister had said—had told her—did not stop her from _seeing_ , and from noticing the way the Japanese acted. It did not stop the Japanese from acting.

And she hated it.

It happened all the time, everywhere, and despite her tears she always seemed to notice it, her heart shattering with every mental blow the Japanese inflicted upon her.

This... This was no different.

It pained her to admit it, but even the most peaceful of days contained a slip of ugliness—the ugliness of Japan's cruelty.

 _Today, it happens again._

Her astute eyes caught sight of a Britannian vendor and they widened, her anger bristling and rising when a Japanese struck the pale Britannian male.

 _How dare they!_ She wanted to run down there, abandoning her post by the bridge, but something kept her still. Shaking—with anger or fear she didn't know—she cried silent, unseen tears for her countrymen and women alike as the Britannian's eyes watered but he stood strong, head lowered submissively.

Her fists shook and she hissed, seething, as the Japanese made to yell at the Britannian and throw the food he had been given. Her heart wrenched at the hurt in the Britannian's eyes, and she glared down at the Japanese, who looked as though he felt he was in the right.

The Japanese kicked the vendor's booth, food and ingredients sent flying, and she stumbled backwards, tears stinging her eyes. How could anyone be so cruel?

She hardly cared that she was falling, her footing lost, because she had _failed._ She had failed her own people, and she had knowingly let them suffer the abuse.

When she cried out, then, it was not for the fear of the scars she might suffer from the stone pavement of the bridge, or for the shock of gravity pulling her down, but for the pain her Empire had endured—had endured for years without retaliation.

Suddenly, strong arms coiled around her, gripping her tightly. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched as she was lifted and placed on her unsteady two feet. Glancing at the one responsible for her saving, she backed up slightly, eyes widened in shock.

The man—teenager, really—gave her a small smile. "Please, take care of yourself. I'd hate to see such a beautiful woman as yourself hurt." She shook, but not from tears—from the anger that invaded her.

How... How _dare_ he speak to her like that! _He only saved me because I look Japanese,_ she thought, and the fury doubled. The Japanese were so discriminated it was appalling.

His emerald eyes glinted in the sun, and his smile broadened. "I'm glad you're unhurt. I'm—"

"—Suzaku Kururugi." She cut in, and was relieved to hear her voice come out soft and gentle, instead of the icy coldness in her mind.

He did not look surprised and merely smiled at her recognition. "You look pale," he mentioned and she flinched slightly—perhaps she had applied a little _too_ much makeup that morning, but she had just been too angry with the Emperor's hypocritical speech she hadn't been able to make herself care. "Would you like a drink, perhaps? To strengthen you, of course."

Disgust swelled in her abdomen, but she knew better than to refuse an offer from the Prince himself. "Oh, I couldn't ask for that," she feigned a shy smile that made her inwardly cringe.

"Well, fortunately, you're not asking. I'm offering."

She groaned inwardly. He was being stubborn, and she hated stubborn people—especially since she had already clearly refused. "You're the prince!" She let her voice flutter nervously, and then laughed softly. "The Emperor would have my head!"

"Oh please, my father would do no such thing." He laughed softly and granted her a smile. "Please, I insist."

She wanted to scowl but didn't, instead letting her eyes flitter downwards timidly. "Well, if you insist... Thank you." Inwardly hatred stabbed her heart, her chest tightening with fury.

She found herself being dragged by the Prince, and for a moment, she glanced back at the Britannian vendor, concern stirring in her heart.

Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the lanky male, who looked unhealthily skinny—starved, clearly—sprawled on the pavement with a crowd of laughing Japanese surrounding him.

How could anyone be so... inhuman to take amusement in another's suffering?

Once upon a time, she had absolute faith in her fellow humans—faith that they were all good, that they all deserved a life and second chances.

Now, she would gladly end the existences of a few worthless people and stain her hands with their blood if it was necessary.

 _Don't worry,_ Euphemia li Britannia thought shakily. _Please. Last a little longer. We'll save you._ She thought of all the people—men, women and _children_ alike—who had been hurt and her eyes hardened with determination. _I promise._

She may not be wearing the face of a proud Princess of Britannia anymore, and her Britannia may have seen defeat, but a Princess always kept their promises, and she would do no different.

The Japanese would pay.

* * *

 _Often, when his shift was over and he felt particularly exhausted, he would go to the nearest bar and order a drink or two to flush out the stress inhabiting his body and mind._

 _Today was one of those days._

 _With a tired sigh, he exited the car and walked into the bar, ignoring the other Britannians within the building as he walked directly towards the bartender, which he knew personally._

 _He offered the female a smile. "Leah." She nodded at him, knowing not to refer to him with his name, because around these parts, it was quite renowned._

 _"Han." The woman greeted instead, pushing her raven hair behind her neck. Then, her eyes clouded with worry and she gestured towards a table by the back. "The lady over there paid for your tab tonight." A glass full of liquor was pushed towards him, a concerned frown on her lips._

 _He stared at her in confusion, his silence asking an unsaid question._

 _"Asked for you by name." Leah revealed, and his eyes widened involuntarily. At his reaction, she shot him a pointed look. "What have you been up to, Han?"_

 _Glancing around himself, he leaned closer and lowered his voice, querying, "Is she armed?"_

 _Leah looked uncomfortable when she said, "Girl's got a gun. She hasn't done anything yet, though." It was clear by the warning she sent him through her caution-filled gaze that she was unassured of the girl's harmless intentions._

 _He winced and stole a glance at said girl. She seemed tall even while sitting down, he noted, and she wore a sunhat on her head, concealing her tresses from view. He figured that her eyes were covered, as well, and deduced that she must be someone who did not want to be recognized._

 _"Be careful."_

 _It was all Leah said before he picked up the drink carefully and made his way towards the table, eyes darting to and fro._

 _His fingers set the drink on the surface of the table, and after a moment of considering, he sat down. Unseen to her eyes, his fingers darted for his gun, tension in the air._

 _"Soldier 047." A familiar voice he recognized instantly came from her mouth, and he stilled, shock filling him. "Calm yourself."_

 _The hand moved away from his gun out of instinct, and he found himself staring at her with wide, shocked eyes. "Y-You're..."_

 _The glare she pinned him with warned him not to say anything, for his safety. He winced but closed his mouth, eyes searching for the signature magenta of her hair._

 _He found the brilliant color of her mane seconds afterward, and his breath hitched. "Princess..." He breathed quietly, and after a second he paled as he realized he had meant to shoot a royal Princess of his home Empire._

 _Even in the darkness he could see the small smirk creeping up her face, and the mirthful twinkle of her eyes. "Soldier 047," she repeated._

 _"W-what do you want with me, Your Highness?"_

 _She smiled again, wider this time. "My brother has need of you. The Eleventh one."_

 _He gasped quietly, wondering if he had heard her right. "Le... Lelouch... vi Britannia."_

 _"So what do you say?"_

 _He didn't even know what the Eleventh Prince and Seventeenth Heir wanted with him, but there was no hesitation in his mind or voice when his gaze hardened and he nodded at the Second Princess._

 _"I would be honored to serve him." He had said, and he had meant it._

"Do you remember," he started, "how I reacted when you told me I was to be your Knight?"

Lelouch glanced at him with a start, eyebrows hitched upwards in a questioning manner. "Yes." The prince finally said when he made no move to further explain himself. "I do."

He cracked a smile. "I imagine I looked shocked."

"You did." Lelouch replied, and he was smiling wryly as he said it. "Your eyes were wide and you were smiling, though I don't know how with your jaw unhinged as it was."

He laughed quietly and looked out the window at the crowds bustling around. Things had changed so much, yet he didn't regret a thing. He would gladly serve Lelouch a thousand times over if that was what was asked of him.

"Was I stuttering?"

"You were."

Jeremiah Gottwald wore the smile he adorned years ago, the first time he heard Lelouch's voice after the Vi Britannia children's exile. He wore the smile he had first worn when Lelouch asked him to pledge fealty.

"I still pledge my loyalty and life to you, you know." He said it as though it was worth nothing, while Lelouch thought that Jeremiah was probably his greatest ally who he would drop everything to save, if needed.

Lelouch vi Britannia hummed slightly. "I still appreciate it."

The two men, master and servant, prince and knight, shared a glance—a glance that meant a thousand words—before Lelouch smiled slightly, secretively, and headed for his desk and the laptop perched atop it.

"How shall we proceed, Your Highness?"

"Well, Jeremiah Gottwald," Lelouch smiled and with a flick of his fingers, turned on the laptop. "Here is what we're going to do..."

* * *

Jagged, sapphire orbs stared at the piece of paper, inked words floating through her mind lifelessly.

 **Mission Type:** Delivery. _Suzaku managed to do it. I understand his surprise; I don't exactly find joy in doing delivery, either, as though I'm some sort of subordinate they can push over. However, I need the time to think, and the lack of action will give me the exact thing needed to do that._

 **Target:** Deliver Container #10154 to General Kusakabe. The General will be awaiting his delivery in the Shinjuku Ghetto, in Block 3, House 11. _A container? What could the container possibly entail?_

 **Members:** Soldiers Shoubu Nagata and Kouzuki Kallen. _So it isn't a solo mission, huh?_

 **Equipment:** 1 Knightmare Frame, 1 Cargo Truck, 2 Infantry Rifles.

 **Deadline:** Tuesday 23rd, August. _That would be five days from now._

A smirk found its way onto Kallen's face. She wouldn't disappoint her Prince, even if it was only a single delivery task.

* * *

Tamaki's eyes roved over the outline of his boss's plan once more. It was a brilliant plan, he thought giddily, and there was pretty much zero chance of it failing. He smirked widely, imagining the defeated and shocked look on his superior's eyes.

His boss's cause— _their_ cause, he thought in wonder and awe—would triumph.

Because the amount of intricate detail and thought put into the plan assured that much.

 _"Brilliant, as always, boss."_ He typed out deftly, eyes full of respect and admiration. _"I have no doubt we will succeed, with you as our leader; our King."_

The gleeful laugh echoing from Room 107 would plague the others on his floor for days to come.

 _"Cobra, out."_

* * *

 **A/N: As I'm having trouble deciding myself, I want to ask you, the readers, what pairings you'd liked in this fanfic. Please do remember that you suggestion may not be the final decision, but I will listen to everything any of you have to say!**

—sfaye-chan.


	6. V: Two Princes Beat an Emperor

**Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass.**

* * *

 **Chapter V**

 _(Two Princes Beat an Emperor)_

* * *

"Two heads are better than one."

— John Heywood

* * *

Silently, Euphemia wondered if she would get away with knocking Suzaku, her host, out and running away.

Maybe.

She paused.

Probably not.

Eye twitching, Euphemia glanced at the Prince, wondering what she had possibly done to get herself in _this_ situation. From what she had heard, Suzaku Kururugi was a dedicated athlete whose strength and skill rivaled a dozen men.

 _Get me out of here, Lelouch,_ she thought, a hand sneaking into her pocket and pressing the sole button on a sleek, rectangular remote her brother had designed. A subtle vibration prickled her skin, and she smiled at Suzaku.

"It must be nice," she mused, "to be a Prince of a whole Empire... The only prince, too."

She expected him to smirk—to laugh, to smile, anything! What he did do, however, was merely look off into the distance, eyes clouded with something she didn't recognize. "Maybe, to some people, the thought of being royalty would be exciting. However..."

 _The reality is far off,_ she finished silently, her eyes narrowing.

He offered her a small smile. "I figure the citizens of my Empire have far more free time, freedom and privacy than I do. And I envy them."

A hum exited Euphemia's lips, and she leaned on her cushioned chair slowly, eyes closing. "Perhaps you're right." She finally said, staring into his eyes and searching for any sign of a lie. _As if a Japanese like you could understand our plight._

"Perhaps," he agreed woefully. _She understands._

"What would you do, then, if you were a commoner, and I, a princess?" Euphemia leaned forward, eager to hear the answer, although she kept her tone light and humorous as to not offend him and potentially get her head offered to the Emperor on a jewelled plate.

His eyes widened at her words but the smile on his face never wavered. "I'd either respect or ignore you, I suppose, depending on what you've done in your career, and not your ancestors'."

For a moment, Euphemia sat there, stunned. The next, and her eyes had widened, and a small smile was on her lips, despite herself.

And for a moment, she regretted calling for her brother.

But only for a moment.

* * *

"Lloyd Asplund."

The former Earl of Pudding whirled around, wondering who it was that had addressed him so familiarly, as though they knew each other. One glance at the offender, and he knew why—they _did_ know each other.

A smile graced his face easily and he dusted his laboratory coat off quickly, making a half-hearted bow. "Lelouch."

"You're lucky my Knight isn't here to have your head for acknowledging me so informally," the Prince joked in return, smiling as easily as Lloyd was. It was definitely strange, Lloyd thought, that the Prince laughing with him now could be the same man as the one who'd promised to obliterate entire worlds for the sake of his remaining family.

Lloyd's smile warped into a slight, sly smirk. "Perhaps that's why I took the chance, my dear Prince Lelouch." Even as they joked around, however, their bodies unguarded and minds trusting, they kept their destination in mind and strode towards the single room nestled within the folds of the industrial building, each corridor seeming to lead them farther away from the lab.

Lelouch laughed at that, eyes lidded with amusement, and Lloyd took joy in being able to make the vengeful Prince smile, for once.

But the comfortable air soon vanished, and the familiar tension he'd grown used to reappeared. Lelouch's friendly smile disappeared, and Lloyd could only see a shell of a lively teenage boy—a boy whose sister's death had taken a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined.

"Status report." The Prince demanded coldly, a tinge of calm professionalism in his voice, and Lloyd thought, once more, of how much and how quickly the Prince could change, from a friendly, smiling man to an icily indifferent one, whose sole purpose in life was to wreak havoc and destruction.

Lloyd shook the thought off, feigning a cool smile as he responded to his boss and Prince's request—which honestly was more like an order than anything else. "As you very well know the DA-BOF-001, when completed, would become the very _first_ of its kind—the very first Seventh Generation Knightmare Frame. I am proud to announce that my coworkers and I have finally completed the development of the DA-BOF-001.

"The DA-BOF-001 has successfully been equipped with it's own _Float System_ and _Illusive Distortion Shield._ Its previous lance has been replaced with the newest model of our latest creation; _Bishamon's Blade._ The sword has three main operational features, the first being it's fire purpose and cutting ability, the second being it's laser beam tip, and the last being it's ice feature."

The scientist fished in his coat for a folder and after a few seconds, managed to retrieve a single, sealed manilla folder. "Within the confines of this folder you will find the full reports regarding the DA-BOF-001's recent completion."

The smirk Lelouch gazed at him with made Lloyd know that his efforts had not been for naught. "My dear Earl of Pudding…" Lelouch murmured, and Lloyd winced at the name, thinking that maybe, he _hadn't_ in fact, worked hard enough. "You've truly completed the DA-BOF-001, it seems."

Lloyd grinned, because no matter what the Frame would be used for, it was his pride and joy—the Knightmare Frame he'd done so much to develop. He had even—

"How's Rakshata?"

—he had even swallowed his pride and accepted working with his greatest rival to finish the dream of an advanced Knightmare Frame.

 _Rakshata Chawla,_ he remembered, his distaste growing and elation slowly dissipating. He sighed, the excitement in his eyes disappearing, and grumbled, "Rakshata's fine."

Lelouch smiled softly. "I'm glad to hear you two are able to see past your differences."

Lloyd nearly burst out laughing at Lelouch's words, and right now, the only thing keeping his amusement restrained was the sincere pride and joy in Lelouch's usually cold amethyst eyes. With a sigh, he restrained himself, a thought flittering through his mind, _If only you knew, Lelouch. If only you knew._

"…I suppose we are," he finally managed to cough out, the words feeling bitter on his tongue. "Now, Prince Lelouch," he fought to change the subject, smiling nervously, "Have you thought of a name for your first, personal Knightmare Frame?"

"Of course I have." There was the familiar arrogant tint seeping back into the teenager's voice, and Lloyd suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "The DA-BOF-001, which was first blessed with the name, _Shinkiro,_ during its experimental stages, will otherwise be known as the _Kuroki._ "

Lloyd was just relieved that Lelouch seemed to finally get over the subject of Rakshata, because the Indian scientist truly got on his nerves. The Earl smiled, "The _Black Demon._ How symbolic, Lelouch, although I _did_ somewhat expect you to name the DA-BOF-001 something ridiculous, like _Zero_ or something even worse."

 _…I was thinking of naming_ ** _myself_** _Zero, but on second thought, that might need to change._ Lelouch reflected with a tired sigh, filing his thoughts for a later date, although really, what did someone as childish as _Lloyd,_ who would throw a tantrum over pudding of all things, know about symbolism?

Instead, Lelouch only smiled and wondered aloud, "I _do_ hope your next Frame, for my Knight, will be just as brilliant." Lloyd's eyes widened slightly, and Lelouch added as an afterthought, "You and Rakshata get along _so_ well, I was thinking of having you two officially partner up, not only for these Frames but for everything in general."

Lloyd paled. _Maybe he hasn't gotten over the subject, after all._ "Actually, my Prince," he stumbled over his words frantically, making sure to address the boy respectfully, "I was thinking—"

 _Beep._

The two halted instantly, Lelouch's curious gaze directed to the device in his pockets. His eyebrows hiked upwards as he heard nothing more than that one, singular _beep._

It was clearly from Euphie, of course, as she was the only one who had contact to him besides Jeremiah, and he'd already told the man not to contact him until he himself did first. _What is it, Euphie?_ It was a code they'd agreed on. One _beep_ —a life-or-death emergency that absolutely _could not_ wait. Two _beeps_ —contact as soon as possible, but it wasn't as much of an emergency. Three _beeps_ —a new development has come up, contact when possible.

Lelouch's eyes narrowed. Silently, he glanced at his scientist and apologised quickly, "Forgive me, Lloyd, I believe my presence may be needed elsewhere."

Lloyd nodded. "Of course." _I'd accept anything as long as you take back your thought to partner Rakshata and I up._ "Go ahead, the Knightmare Frame won't be getting anywhere. Just be sure to test it some time soon, so the received data can be analysed and used for your Knight's Frame."

Lelouch nodded in understanding. "I'll be back soon." He promised, before heading off.

It was only when he was in his car, having ordered his chauffeur—a Britannia male, of course—to drive that he thought to answer Euphie's distress call. His brows knitting in concern, he retrieved the sleek device from the folds of his pocket. There were only two buttons on the whole of the device; one, which had been colour-coded white, and the other, a black button. He pressed the white one and bent over, pressing the device to his ear, waiting for words to be spoken.

 _"It must be nice,"_ his sister's voice replayed, her sweet, gentle tone one that made his heart ache with longing. _"to be the Prince of a whole Empire… The only prince, too."_

His eyes widened as ideas ran through his mind at his sister's words, and he wondered what had happened. Had their identities been compromised?

 _"Maybe, to some people, the thought of being royalty would be exciting. However…"_

Lelouch's already wide eyes widened even more, his skin paling as his jaw unhinged. That voice… He _knew_ that voice! In the next second, the visage of his childhood friend flashed in his mind. _Suzaku._

The brief recording ended.

Lelouch's eyes, which had been opened in wonder, closed grimly. _What did you do to her, Suzaku?_ What had compelled Euphie to signal for him? Had she been harmed? His eyes flared with fury, burning with an anger, yet also fear—fear that he would be unable to save Euphie, as he'd been unable to save Nunnally.

 _I'm sorry, Suzaku, but even if you are my friend, I could never let you get away with harming my dear sister._

With a resigned sigh, he took out his phone and dialled a number he'd memorised by heart. He only barely had to wait two beeps before the call was picked up.

"Jeremiah?" He spoke softly into the phone, motioning for the chauffeur to halt as they arrived at the location he'd last monitored Euphie's device to be at.

 _"...Your Highness?"_ Jeremiah Gottwald's reassuringly loyal voice spoke back at him. _"Is there anything you require, My Lord?"_

Lelouch pursed his lips slightly. "It appears something has come up at the last minute, Gottwald. I'd appreciate it if you could handle my duties for the day."

For a moment there was a beat of silence and Lelouch had to wonder if the Gottwald Knight would question his endeavors. _"Of course, My Lord."_ But Jeremiah, the loyal knight, did nothing of the sort, simply agreeing obediently.

"And Jeremiah?"

Lelouch allowed a brief pause but he never waited for Jeremiah's answer, instantly continuing, his eyes glinting wickedly. "Commence with Phase One, if you please."

There was another pang of loud silence, before Lelouch could almost hear the man's contagious smile over the line. _"Gladly."_ And Lelouch knew that he could trust his knight with taking care of the first part of the plan, even if he would be occupied and unable to watch over the proceedings himself.

"I'm coming, Euphie."

* * *

A pair of eyes gazed out the window of the attic on the three-storey house. They swept around the road and took in the sight of bustling crowds before the towering silhouette of the male retreated inside.

 _Even on such a fine day like today, where everyone seems to keep up the dying facade of peace and bliss, there are those suffering, out there._ He scowled, a tired sort of fury seeping into his expression. _I'd feel shame for so easily betraying my country, but we Japanese have all but lost our sense of honour, so what is another betrayal, in this world of lies and deceit?_

 _This new Japan is no country I'd proudly call my own—the old one, with warriors and true pride, however, I'd gladly fight for. But now, we've become like all the other tyrants out there, oppressing our rule against adults and children alike. We've no right—we're no God, no almighty ruler who deserves to push their beliefs on the people._

 _All we are… Is the broken remains of a once proud race._

"And I will revive that pride." Naoto Kouzuki-Stadtfeld vowed, his fists clenching by his sides. _I'm sorry, Kallen. I have to do this—I know you'll understand, someday._

 _For our family, and for Japan._

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you didn't have to wait too long for this release, and even so, I apologise for the minimal words. Yes, I know, this chapter is quite short, but rest assured, I'll do my best to make the next one worth your while.**

 **I've also considered pairings over the past week, and while I've yet to come to a _final,_ definite, decision, I'm currently considering either a Lelouch/Kallen, Lelouch/C.C, Lelouch/Euphie, or Lelouch/Harem and for Suzaku, either a Suzaku/Euphie or, well—at the moment I can't decide who else Suzaku would be good paired up with, honestly.**

 **I have _not_ looked at this in awhile, actually, so I'm sorry for any mistakes that have slipped in (I'm sure there are more than a few if you looked close enough). So yea, I apologise for that.**

 **Either way, thank you for reading, and please do review (I'm still listening for pairing ideas, as well as anything else you have to offer)!**

 _— sfaye-chan._


	7. VI: All Hail Britannia, Death to Japan!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass.**

* * *

 **Chapter VI**

(All Hail Britannia, Death to Japan!)

* * *

"The only way to make a person trustworthy is to trust him."

— Henry L. Stimson

* * *

His heart hammered in his chest, and his mind constantly flitted back and forth between two faces. One was a face of glittering rage, emerald orbs staring determinedly at him as the owner vowed, lips sealed in a resolved scowl. The second face was that of a gentle soul's, with kind, open eyes and honest truths, lips curled into a sweet smile.

He wanted to believe that what he'd remembered of Suzaku was true; that the Japanese was still as fiercely loyal and stubborn as he once was. That Suzaku was still respectful, prideful and dignified—but most of all honorable. He wanted to believe in Suzaku—that the brunette he'd once known would never hurt anyone, no matter their heritage.

He wanted to believe that Suzaku would never hurt Euphie.

But he could not ignore the facts, and the facts were that Suzaku was a young, impressionable boy under the tutelage of the manipulative Kururugi Genbu when he'd last seen the boy.

And so much time had passed.

 _Suzaku, please,_ he thought desperately, _don't hurt her. For both her and your sake._

Even if Suzaku would hurt Euphie, he'd never condemn anyone to a fate as horrible as having to deal with Cornelia, the dreaded, protective elder sister.

And then there was him.

He'd never let anyone get away with harming the sweet angel that was Euphemia li Britannia, either.

* * *

 _When is Lelouch getting here?_ Euphie wondered irritably, her face tired and weary from smiling so brightly for such a long time. It hadn't helped that those smiles were false, too.

Maybe— _maybe—_ she wouldn't have minded being around Suzaku so much, his surprising wisdom intriguing her to learn more. However, the cafe's overly polite waitresses, coupled with Suzaku's fans who'd somehow known they'd be there, wore her patience thin.

The waitresses, no matter how dignified they were meant to be, also found that they were unable to stop themselves from winking at Suzaku and generally acting flirtatious to the dashing teenager that was their Empire's Prince.

Not that Euphie was jealous, of course.

A second later another of Suzaku's numerous admirers walked up to them, eyes shining excitedly as she extended an arm towards the male. Motioning to the marker she held in her hands, she asked him to sign his autograph for her—and with that pleading voice she'd asked him with, how could he refuse?

Euphie found herself glaring at the girl.

It was completely illogical.

As a princess she had grown used to admirers who respected and wooed over you, and she'd even managed to grow accustomed to the constant questions, fawning, and even _stalking._ With the renowned Prime Minister as one of her closer siblings, how could she not?

She saw people come forward daily, begging the blond politician to sign his name on their shirts, and she saw people walk up and plead for a picture with the famed Witch of Britannia.

And yet this was different, somehow.

Something tugged at her heart as she saw Suzaku smile softly at the girl, bend down, and scribble rapidly on the inner expanse of skin on her forearm, eyes merry with amusement. Euphie's expression contorted unwillingly and subconsciously at the sight of the Prince tilt his head and hand back the marker, his hands accidentally brushing the girl's.

It was a completely unfamiliar feeling—the painful clenching and tightening of her chest. And if there was something she disliked, it was things she couldn't make sense of.

She glared. _He's our enemy,_ she rationalised. _He is_ ** _my_** _enemy—the prince of the people oppressing us—and I will bring his Empire down around him… Just watch me, Suzaku—watch me as I turn your life around!_

And the tiny, fluttering feeling—which she would never admit was jealousy—burned and turned into flames fuelled by rage, and the thirst for vengeance.

* * *

The man smiled, his hand silently reaching into the folds of his unassuming tourist bag, assuring himself that the contents he'd packed personally were still there. Even after the years that'd passed since he first held a weapon, he still smiled at the feeling of the bulky object he'd gripped instinctively, and he imagined the shocked look on their faces once he'd drawn his weapon of choice out.

A gun, of course.

Closing the flap on the leather bag silently, his eyes scanned the room, seeking the renowned visage of his target.

 _Nagisa Chiba._

He smirked slightly as he caught a glimpse of the woman, her short raven hair framing her angular face beautifully. Had she been anybody else, he would have likely named her as 'pretty', regardless of her nationality, but for him, the blood on her hands distorted the image she had on other men.

He could only ever see her as the woman who participated in the murder of Lady Marianne.

And he would never forgive her.

He smirked slightly. _That's why, Nagisa Chiba, I will take great joy in detaining you, even if it costs me my discretion and disguise._ His eyes quickly swept around the room once more and glanced at the clock.

 _Three minutes until it strikes noon._ His smirk widened. _Perfect._

Silently, he prepared himself and took a step forward, only to feel himself collide gently with someone else. Somewhat startled, his eyes flittered upwards before shock filled him, and he quickly took a step back, gritting his teeth as he made himself bow.

"Y-Your…" He fumbled for his words, inwardly seething at the one he'd bumped into incidentally. _The irony,_ he thought, resigning himself. "Your Ladyship," he whispered, unable to stop a slip of resent from staining his voice.

The woman glared down at him, peering down her nose as though he wasn't worth a second of her time. There was disgust in her eyes, and it took everything he had not to strike her down for her infuriating arrogance.

"You have some nerve, _Britannian._ " the burly man beside her spat with abhorrence. "To touch a Knight of Honor like you have."

Jeremiah willed down the fury he was feeling, reminding himself the importance of the plan. _How funny fate is; to bring me my target._ He hid a smirk. _How convenient._ "F-Forgive me for my impudence, your Ladyship." He bowed slightly, forcing himself to stutter, although that wasn't entirely hard considering how much he was forcing himself to say those words he loathed to even think about.

"Britannian scum." Lady Nagisa murmured, sneering. "A wonder the Prince still vouches for your worthless lives."

Jeremiah made himself flinch, inwardly thinking, _When we reclaim our glory, Lady Nagisa Chiba, my Prince will destroy you._ He kept his head lowered submissively, relieved that they were in a corner, unnoticed to the masses of people. Inwardly, though, her words had shocked him. _The Prince of Japan?_ His eyebrows arched subtly, years of hiding his expressions and disguising his identity dominating his feelings for a moment. _Is he truly the only reason we remain alive, today?_

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The burly man glared, and Jeremiah recognised him to be Hurei Araki, the mysterious bodyguard of Nagisa Chiba. "Why shouldn't we simply be rid of you right now, for your insolence, Britannian? We'd be doing the Japanese and Britannia's alike a kindness, I'm sure."

Playing the role of a frightened subject perfectly, Jeremiah Gottwald whimpered, stumbling back slightly. It damaged him, to have to act so pathetically, but, he reminded himself, this was all for the sake of his Prince. "I—Forgive me, your Ladyship."

"Buy me a drink, and I might find it in myself to spare your life, worthless Brit." Nagisa hissed out through clenched teeth, although a wide, mocking smirk was on her face.

Jeremiah did not understand what made her trust a foreign stranger she knew nothing of, besides his nationality which she clearly disapproved of. Still, he nodded fearfully and inwardly thanked whichever God made her that way. _How convenient, that she gives me all the chance I need to end her pitiful existence._

His expression soured, however, as he remembered his orders.

 _"Phase One includes the detaining and capture of Lady Nagisa Chiba of the Knights of Honor. Use force if necessary, however, her continued life is essential in the overall plan."_

With a twitch of the eye, he sauntered over to the bar, keeping his posture submissive and beaten. He waited patiently until the bartender turned to meet his eyes. His face did not show it, but he was inwardly surprised at the identity of the young man.

"Ah, hello, how may I—?" Suddenly the bartender blinked, his unease and nervousness vanishing instantly as a wide smile appeared on his face. "A Britannian..." He sighed with relief, smiling easily and friendlily at Jeremiah despite being complete strangers. His tense posture and overly polite tone dissipated slowly, although it was only replaced with a much more sincere kindness. "What would you like?"

Jeremiah smiled slightly, although a part of him mentally frowned at the bartender's youthful age and the fear he'd expressed. "I'm not sure," he started truthfully, "Would you happen to have any idea what a woman like the renowned Nagisa Chiba would like for her drink?" Although his choice of words showed nothing but respect and admiration, the tone he said them with was laced with venom and bitterness.

The bartender stared at Jeremiah for a second, before he nodded understandingly, pity in his eyes. "Wait a moment," he requested simply, turning around once more to do his job while Jeremiah's eyes darted around again. After a minute or two of silence, the bartender's voice spoked up again, "Here," he offered, giving Jeremiah a drink which the former guard and Knight held carefully. "Free of charge."

When Jeremiah shot the bartender a surprised look, the boy only smiled. "We're all in this together, right?" Jeremiah smiled gratefully, and the bartender chuckled. "I'm Rivalz. Rivalz Cardemonde."

"Jeremiah Gottwald," he responded honestly, his smile slightly sincere now. "Pleasure to be of your acquaintance."

Rivalz arched an eyebrow. "What's a former Guard of the Aries Villa doing, bowing down to the infuriating lady over there?" He gestured over to where Nagisa stood stoically, unmoving and seeking.

Jeremiah blinked, before his worry exceeded his surprise and he hissed, "Quiet! I don't need the world knowing my identity, _thank you very much_." After a moment, he added quietly, "How do you know who I am?"

Rivalz looked uncertain for a moment, before he shrugged simply. "I'm a friend of Milly's."

 _The Ashfords?_ Jeremiah's eyes widened slightly, remembering the young, exuberant girl who'd run around gleefully, claiming Prince Lelouch as her own. "Ah, I remember the young Mistress."

The Cardemonde boy nodded. "She told me all about the guards in Aries Villa. Spoke of a Lord Gottwald, whose loyalty exceeded his will to live."

Jeremiah's eyebrow arched at Milly's description of him, which quite did him justice, truthfully. "I see," he said simply.

"So why would a loyal Knight like you serve a Japanese Knight?"

"Are you questioning my loyalty?" Jeremiah hissed, eyes narrowing. "I'm with his Highness." It was only seconds after he said it that he winced, realizing that Lelouch was officially dead on papers, and he'd likely ruined the farce.

"Which Prince?" Rivalz questioned quietly, excitement overtaking his eyes. _Could it possibly be? Dare I hope Japan will lose its grip on Britannia?_

Jeremiah was suddenly glad that he had not mentioned any names. "I can't see why that would involve you, Cardemonde."

"Hey, we're both Britannians." Rivalz looked somewhat hurt, although irritation was present in his gaze. "We're on the same side."

"Perhaps," Jeremiah granted. "However, just because we are of common heritage means nothing of our intentions. Nevertheless, I've kept _her Ladyship_ waiting long enough. If I want to keep my head, I'm afraid I must go." He didn't look the least bit apologetic or regretful.

Rivalz scowled but grunted in acknowledgement. "I hope you succeed, Lord Gottwald." He said quietly, ignoring the fact that Jeremiah had lost his noble ranking long ago, when Britannia lost her freedom. "I hope we Britannians get our lives back." _Don't fail us._

Jeremiah nodded seriously. "We're doing our best." He hesitated for a moment, and then let the words tumble out, "I hope we meet again, Cardemonde. Don't die—you're a Britannian, after all."

Rivalz chuckled, although it was a chuckle without joy and full of somber solemnity. "I won't," he whispered quietly, numbly watching Jeremiah walk away with the glass cupped in his hands. _You may be Britannia's only hope, Lord Gottwald, your Highness._ And he wondered, once again, which son of Britannia's fallen leader it was, who Jeremiah followed devotedly. Could they really do it?

Destroy Japan, and free Britannia?

Suzaku smiled inwardly, gazing at the girl before him with admiration. A girl who reminded him of his old friend so much. _You have the same eyes—hopeful, trusting, yet edged with disappointment. Horror, fear. The kind of emotion you get after you've seen the truth of reality._

Their eyes were both purple, too.

Was life so cruel, to haunt him with the ghosts of his past? Why did Lelouch keep plaguing him, his thoughts and his vision?

 _Oh, Lelouch._ "So, how's life for you?" He asked, hoping he sounded friendly. It was so rare that he got a friend his own age, who pursued him for who he was, and not his status.

Euphie shrugged. "Good, I suppose." But there was a darkness to her voice, and an anger to her eyes. "Then again, it's as well as it can be, with no parents."

Suzaku flinched at her words, his heart aching. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Discomfort filled his eyes, "How—?" _What are you doing?!_ He stopped himself from finishing his question, horror in his eyes. _Can't you see she doesn't want to talk about it?_

But Euphie only smiled at him, gently. "The war against Britannia." Despite the kindness of her face, there was an undertone to her words that made his skin crawl. "My father died, killed by Japan's own. My mother, seeking retribution, met the same fate." Hate was in her eyes, a hate so deep and _real_ he shuddered, although he knew the hate was not misplaced.

 _Killed by... Japan?_ His breath hitched, horror, guilt and grief festering in his chest. "I'm s-so sorry." _You're an idiot, Suzaku. Why would she want comfort from you, the Prince of the Empire that killed her own parents?_ Disgust filled his eyes—disgust for his home. _Is this the true face of Japan?_

He remembered her hesitance to follow him, and the irritation in her eyes when he continued to persist blindly. His eyes glared down at the ground, silently cursing himself. How could he have been so heartless, to ignore her unspoken wishes?

Reminding himself that he was still in the presence of the brunette, Suzaku forced on an apologetic smile and whispered, "I'm so, so very sorry for your loss. I never knew."

A sweet smile graced her face, yet somehow there was something in her smile that made him on edge. "I'm sure you didn't," she assured, her voice impatient for some reason he couldn't make sense of.

"Still..." He murmured quietly. "Surely there must be _something_ I can do to help... To redeem my Empire?"

There was an unrecognizable expression in her eyes, and he extended an arm tentatively, his hand reaching forward slowly, as if longingly. He'd just been about to grasp her own arm, when suddenly a loud noise rang in their ears.

He froze, his blood running cold as his eyes searched for the source—the door to the cafe, which was now slammed open, a teenaged male standing there panting, shrouded in the sunlight of the Land of the Rising Sun. He looked ragged, exhausted, and yet his familiar, _rich_ violet eyes were blazing with fury and a resigned scowl was on his lips.

"Don't you dare even _think_ about touching her!" The teenager snarled, hissing angrily, fists shaking by his sides.

Suzaku's eyes widened, his gut churning as only one thought crossed his mind and exited his lips in a shocked, hopeful whisper; "...Lelouch?"

Jeremiah felt a weight settle in his heart, something that was a mix of regret, guilt, and responsibility. Duty. The _burden_ of a duty—the duty of freeing Britannia.

 _Just you watch, Japan, Britannia._ He vowed solemnly. _We'll do it. We'll liberate Britannia. For the sake of the kind people of Britannia that Japan has enslaved._

"What took you so long?" Hurei glowered down at him, not trusting him even for a moment.

Jeremiah allowed a timid smile to creep up his face. "Forgive me, My Lords." He'd practiced the sentence in his mind so many times now there was only a dull ache of what would have been searing disgust and abhorrence. "I was trying to decide what drink to get her Ladyship."

Nagisa scoffed and outstretched her arm, waiting impatiently. Jeremiah inwardly glared at that arm—the arm that had killed thousands, possibly including Lady Marianne—but silently deposited the drink into her hands. Peering into the clear, translucent swirling liquor, Nagisa finally allowed herself to take a small, tentative sip.

When she glanced up and saw the insolent Britannian still present, she glared at him expectantly. "What are you still doing here, Brit?" He seemed to blink, before he flinched and quickly stumbled over his own words in a desperate attempt to apologize.

"Forgive me, your Ladyship, but..." Plastering on a look of hesitance, he awaited Nagisa's prompt and soon enough, he received an impatient glare. "T-The bartender spoke of a commotion outside, your Ladyship. Said a couple of Japanese and Britannians were duking it out."

Nagisa Chiba scowled, unable to stop herself and the sneer that escaped her. _Those damn Britannians._ Of course, she conveniently forgot that there were Japanese being immaturely petty, as well, fighting along with the Britannians. "I'll see what it is, then." She sighed, giving the Britannian a pointed warning glare.

He smiled nervously but led her outside, her bodyguard following them instantly. He noticed this and frowned, but kept his opinions to himself. It didn't matter at the end, anyway— _I'll just have to get rid of him._

"Where's the fight?" Nagisa asked impatiently, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the rough surface of cement wall. _I swear, if this Britannian lied to me, I'll have his head served on a silver platter._ Her scowl sharpened as she set her gaze on him, before she amended, _On second thought, Britannian scum like him doesn't deserve as much as a silver platter. I'll have his bodiless head on a wooden stake—that'll show the other Britannians not to mess with a superior race such as ourselves._

Satisfied, the lady Knight smiled at the Britannian male leading her and her guard out of the fancy ballroom, although really anyone watching would have taken it for a threatening leer.

"Oh, about that." Jeremiah responded, his nervous behavior fading into a sly, cat-like smirk. Nagisa's eye twitched at his following words; "That was all a lie. A ruse, a feint. Whatever you'll call it. Thing is, there were never any ruffians venting their aggression out here."

Nagisa's scowl deepened, about to gesture to Hurei to attack, when his eyes gained a sharp, feral glint. "Of course," he granted her with a feign of generosity, "if you'd like, we could arrange a fight now—between us, the determined Britannians, and you, the arrogant fools."

"Your people lost the war." Hurei hissed, coming up beside his Lady threateningly. "You are our _inferiors!_ Along with your defeat, you lost your pride, dignity, and above all, the right to live!"

To Jeremiah's credit, he did not even wince in the slightest. Instead, he merely hummed in acknowledgement. "Yes, perhaps," he allowed acceptingly. "However, you are fools to think we'd stay down for long."

"It doesn't matter." Nagisa dismissed before Hurei could speak up anymore. "You can rise up to threaten our superiority and authority as many times as you'd like. We'll triumph every single time—we will never lose, not to insolent insects such as your people."

Jeremiah did not look insulted at all. His smile, in turn, only widened. "You won easily last time, due to your victory over our Emperor. Without a leader, we scuttled around like headless chickens, undisciplined and unsure as to what to do. Now, we've gained a new leader—one which is stronger and craftier than any we've ever had before. And your own soldiers..."

Nagisa's gut churned in realization as he uttered his next words. "How would they fare without a leader to take command?" _Todoh-san!_ She thought desperately, hoping they hadn't somehow gotten to her fearless commander. "Of course, your army's current commander is rather difficult to correct... Thus, Knight of Green, I direct this question to you: will you give me the location of your commander, Knight of White Todoh, or will you take the punishment upon yourself?"

"Like hell I'll tell you where he is!" Nagisa spat, a furious dance in her eyes. "We Japanese value our honor above all else... To reveal the position of a commander—what honor is there in that?!" She shook her head, glaring at him with the fierceness of a warrior. "No, I will fight to the end! I will defend Todoh-sama even if it costs my life!"

"Honor..." Jeremiah sighed quietly, shaking his head. _You speak of honor so often, taking pride in your aspects of dignity and, above all, honor. Yet..._ "Where is that honor you preach of, when you deliver violence to unarmed, innocent civilians, who've done naught to earn your ire?" _I admire, respect even, your burning, undying loyalty and dedication to your master's cause. However, you've chosen the wrong master this time, and I cannot commend you for the sins you've committed against civilians who are only caught in the crossfire._

Nagisa stepped back as if burned, recoiling slightly. But then her rage returned, burning brighter than ever, and she glowered at him. "We are warriors! What right do you have, to talk about us as if you would do differently if you were in power?"

Jeremiah smiled regretfully. "You are correct, sadly. I cannot say with confidence that we would be any better in treating Japanese civilians, should our roles be reversed. However," _For the sake of my Prince,_ he silently swore, "I cannot allow anyone who'd dare abuse their authority and power to live on!"

Hurei reacted before Nagisa did, much to her relief. Surely, had she been alone and unprotected, the Britannian fool would have gotten away with her. Or, at least, gotten away with her much more easily, without so much as a fight.

Jeremiah worked with the efficiency of a machine, stealing Hurei's weapons and pinning him against the wall effortlessly. He chuckled listlessly, and for a moment Nagisa feared that Hurei's devotion to her service would be repaid by unhindered cruelty.

Perhaps the Gods were in her favor, however, for Jeremiah showed mercy unusual for an opponent in battle. Instead of using the katana he'd removed from Hurei, as any other Britannian would, Jeremiah simply brought his arms up, and in one swift move, knocked the Japanese bodyguard out.

Nagisa made no noise at all, simply watching lifelessly as Jeremiah turned to her. She gave no pleas for mercy nor any grunts of pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

The last thing she saw before a void of blackness seeped through her vision was the blinking lights of her beloved Japan.

 _"I cannot reach your master, the famed Knight Todoh. You're not the leader, but I suppose with your own rank as Knight, the fall of yourself shall do enough damage to Japan... All Hail Britannia!"_

* * *

 **A/N: I am _so_ sorry for how long I took to update this! However, I do bring some news you might find a _bit_ interesting. My other Code Geass story, The Truth Hurts More, will _finally_ be updated. Yes, I know it took long, and I am really sorry for how long it has been taking to update one _single_ chapter. Anyway, I hope you guys look out for that!**

— _sfaye-chan_


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